


I'm Dreaming of a Whitly Christmas

by findcomfortinastranger



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Edrisa loves puzzles, I don't live in a place where it snows so don't come for me, Insomnia, Jessica's a great host, Lots of Soup, ainsley's a pill but I love her, alcohol tw just to be safe though, jessica can match people to the ideal liquor but nobody gets drunk, questionable headcanons, slight brightwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findcomfortinastranger/pseuds/findcomfortinastranger
Summary: The gang from the 14th precinct finds themselves at the Whitly house two days before Christmas. Fluff -- and a bit of blood -- ensues.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	I'm Dreaming of a Whitly Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a chat that my friend Charlai and I had a few months ago, which I realized I could turn into a full-out fluff fest. Merry Christmas, Charlai!! Thank you for introducing me to this delightful mess of a show. <3

Gil was the first to arrive on the scene. He took in the stately old townhouse with its front stoop overlooking the street and the black door bedecked with a large pine wreath. He couldn’t say that much had ever gone right for him in that house, but perhaps things were looking up. After all, Jessica Whitly had called him up out of the blue, two days before Christmas. And she hadn’t even asked him to wrangle Malcolm or solve a murder. There had to be some sort of deeper meaning to that. 

He got out of his Le Mans, fresh out of the shop from when Malcolm had crashed his entire 5’7 body into the hood by falling out of a second story window. Actually, they still owed him for the repairs. Maybe that’s what she’d called him over here for. But as he started across the sidewalk with this happy thought in his heart, another car pulled up behind his. 

“This is what happens when you leave Mom alone for too long,” Ainsley huffed as she emerged from the driver’s side and slammed her door shut, heels tapping confidently across the icy pavement. “She has to see you every few days or she loses it.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t her only child!” Malcolm retorted as he exited the passenger seat. “Oh, hi Gil.”

“Malcolm,” said Gil. “Ainsley.” He raised an eyebrow. “What are you two doing here?”

“Mom called us,” said Ainsley. “Well, she called Malcolm. But I was at his place, because he couldn’t hang his own curtains.”

“I misplaced my ladder,” Malcolm said indignantly. “I can hang my own curtains.”

“Yeah, right. Anyway, when she heard my voice, she decided that not only did she have to see Malcolm immediately, she had to see me immediately.”

Malcolm turned to Gil, his brow furrowing with cheerful puzzlement. “The real question is, why are you here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure myself,” said Gil. But before they could work it out, yet another car came up the road and stopped by the house, closely followed by a fourth. Parking was getting sticky. 

“What is going on?” Ainsley said as JT and Tally got out of the third car and Dani disembarked from the fourth. 

“That’s what I’d like to know,” JT grumbled. “Your mom just said she needed to see us. Both of us,” he said with a gesture to his wife. “Tally’s really put out about it.” But she didn’t look put out at all -- in fact, she was giving the exterior of the house quite an appreciative once-over.

“Bright?” Dani asked, hands shoved in her pockets and her coat collar practically jammed up around her ears. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“I know nothing about this,” Malcolm said, holding up his hands. “I’m just as much a victim here as anyone else.”

Gil shook his head at the chaos and climbed the steps to the door. But as he was about to knock, it opened wide and warm light from the foyer shone through onto the snowy scene below.

“I thought I heard voices!” exclaimed Jessica as she took in all the irritated faces huddled in their coats. “Come, come. Don’t stand there and freeze yourselves.” She ushered them in one at a time, taking their coats and hanging them up by the door. “It looks like all of you made it...except...where’s Edrisa?” 

“Edrisa’s coming, too?” JT asked. 

“She certainly should be.” Jessica leaned out the door, shielding her eyes and searching the dark evening for any sign of the holdout. The snow had been falling all day, and it was continuing to fall now, adding inches to the already-thick blanket on the ground. Just as Jessica was about to give up and shut the door, a woman sprinted up the sidewalk in snow boots. 

“Wait!” said Edrisa. “I’m here!” 

“Don’t slip!” warned Jessica as Edrisa hurried up the walkway. She had on earmuffs but lacked a hat, so the snow was laying in big fluffy flakes in her black hair, making her look as if she’d gone prematurely gray. 

“I never slip,” said Edrisa. “Well, except that one time...and that other time...but I wouldn’t slip outside your house. That has to be some kind of crime.” She laughed and took off her earmuffs and her coat, finding Malcolm in the crowd before anyone else. “Oh! What a surprise to see you here,” she said. “Nice surprise, though. ...Not really a surprise at all, I guess. Since it’s your mother’s house and all.” 

“Actually, it’s more of a surprise than you’d think,” said Malcolm, eyeing his mother in a ‘can we get on with it’ kind of way. “This is all very sudden.”

“I’ll say,” said Ainsley. “I was going to go out tonight.” 

“Well, now you are out,” said Jessica, taking Edrisa’s coat from her and hanging it by the door.

“What is this, Jess?” Gil asked. His gruffness could not quite disguise the note of amusement in his voice.

“This is Christmas with the Whitlys,” she said. “I can never you workaholics to respond to my invitations all at once -- somebody always has some pressing engagement or murder investigation that they can’t tear themselves away from. So I figured the best way to have a party is to let nobody know that you’re coming to a party!” 

“Wait, this is a party?” JT asked, looking more betrayed by the second. 

“Yes,” said Jessica, her cheerfulness never wavering. Martin Whitly had once said that she could start and end wars with the force of her smile, such was the power that it held. It served her in good stead now. “If you’ll just follow me into the living room, we can get started.”

“Let’s just hope there’s wine,” Ainsley whispered loudly to Malcolm as everyone followed Jessica, single file, like a chain gang sent to do hard labor. 

“Have you ever met our mother?” Malcolm whispered back. 

Sure enough, Jessica was already opening bottles. “JT,” she said with her back to the group and her front to the decanters. “At first glance you seem like a common beer man, but deep down I believe you have a more refined palette than you’re willing to admit. Here.” She handed him a glass of something darkly amber and he glanced at his wife as he whorled it around. 

“Yes, he’s very particular,” said Tally. “Oh, come on, JT.” She took it from him and sipped a bit. “It’s excellent. Try it.” She handed the glass back to JT and he rolled his eyes but followed her cue with a cautious sip. After a long, thoughtful pause, he looked up at Jessica with newfound respect.

“How’d you do that?” he asked. “Match me up with a drink, I mean.”

“Years of practice,” she said. “Ainsley, pour for yourself. I never know what you like these days, with your screw-offs and your artisanal nonsense.”

“Twist-offs, Mom,” said Ainsley. As she helped herself, she glanced around at the rather bedraggled bunch before her. They were starting to filter around the room, slowly gaining enough confidence to sit on the furniture. “You really should have given us some warning, you know. Nobody’s dressed for a party. Except you, of course.” 

“The clothes don’t make the evening, believe it or not,” said Jessica. “I decided I’d rather have everyone here and homely than stunning somewhere else. Besides, I have a feeling that some of those among us wouldn’t look much different even given the heads-up.” 

Ainsley snorted and took her drink over to the settee, where Malcolm and Edrisa had set up shop. “What’s going on here?” she asked. 

“Edrisa brought her anatomy puzzle,” said Malcolm approvingly, pointing at the grisly image on the table before them. A head, torso, and lungs had already taken shape in the time it had taken Jessica and Ainsley to sort out the drinks.

“It’s just something I always bring to gatherings,” said Edrisa, nodding. “It’s a real conversation starter.”

“I thought nobody knew this was a party,” Dani said. 

“She told me it was,” said Edrisa with a shrug. 

“Edrisa likes to know what to expect,” Jessica added as she swanned over to the inner circle. “The rest of you would have hemm’d and haw’d over it, but I can trust her with a secret.” Edrisa smiled winningly at her, accepting a glass of what looked like root beer.

“Do you not drink?” Ainsley asked Edrisa. 

“Not at parties,” Edrisa said. “I get really wild.” She said it somberly enough that it got a chuckle from Malcolm. 

“Did you want anything, Dani?” Jessica asked, putting her hand on Dani’s shoulder. She was sitting in one of the brocade chairs across from Gil, mimicking his tendency to cross his arms over his chest. She’d given her heavy coat to Jessica but she still wore her trusty leather jacket over a deep green sweater, though it was far from cold in the room.

“I’m good,” said Dani politely.

“Are you sure?” Jessica asked. “This might be a good time to mention that I’m not going to hold anyone hostage. If you really do have somewhere to be, feel free to drop me and run.” 

Everyone looked at each other, waiting to see if anyone would go from guest to traitor.

“Well, we’re comfy now, so,” trailed JT. They all nodded along with him. There was something cozy about the Whitly house, even if nobody could identify why. It was the house that a 23-time convicted serial killer had lived in, that rich people as far back as anyone could remember had owned, the source of multiple traumas for Malcolm, Ainsley, Jessica, and the cleaning staff. And yet, Jessica’s insistence that it would remain a home had willed it to be so. Even JT and Dani could not resist the fact that once you got past the initial oddities and let yourself be enrobed by the seafoam-green walls, you didn’t really want to leave.

“Excellent,” said Jessica with satisfaction. “I just had a good feeling about tonight. Not Christmas Eve, because most people have plans of some sort. But the day before Christmas Eve -- what did you call it when you were little, Malcolm?” 

“Christmas Adam,” Malcolm said, arranging kidneys into the puzzle.

“Ah, such wit,” Jessica said wryly. “But I thought it would be a safe night. None of you were working on anything too important?” 

“Nothing too pressing in the last few days,” Gil said with a shrug. “We’ve had that string of break-ins, but that’s about it.” 

“Break-ins in wealthy neighborhoods,” added JT. “Exactly like this one.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t dare break in here,” said Jessica with a wave of her hand. “Anyone who’s cased the place knows that I have three strapping men and three abundantly clever women on my side. Not to mention that I’m no slouch with a revolver, myself.” 

“They would be a fool to test you,” said Gil warmly, raising his glass to her. 

Just then, a woman came through the double doors. “Mrs. Whitly? The dinner is served,” she said. 

“Oh, wonderful,” said Jessica. “I hope everyone brought their appetites.” 

She ushered the group through to the dining room, which had been set with her special Christmas dishes that she’d had ever since Malcolm could remember. He had no idea where she stored them, but every year they came out in full force. Simple white china, but with gold rims and a sprig of winterberry painted along both sides of the plate. One Christmas, she’d taken a maid aside for a talking-to because the berries were not properly aligned with the napkins. As a result, Malcolm subconsciously adjusted his plate as he sat down to make sure it was perfect.

“Looks great, Mom,” said Ainsley. “But I keep telling you, pink is the big new color for Christmas decor. You should get some rose gold ornaments for the tree.”

“Pink is just weak red when it comes to Christmas,” said Jessica with an offended gasp. “I won’t hear that kind of blasphemy in this house again.” 

Everyone laughed, or at least chuckled. Jessica sat down at the head of the table, and Gil attempted to sit beside her but she waved him away. “Go sit up there,” she told him, gesturing to the chair opposite hers. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“I wouldn’t command it if I wasn’t,” she said with another smile. He simply acquiesced, taking the place where Martin had always sat. Malcolm raised his eyebrows and nudged Ainsley with an elbow, but she seemed much more interested in a text she’d just received than where Gil was seated. 

Dani was placed on Malcolm’s other side, next to Jessica, and Edrisa took the honor of Jessica’s right hand. JT sat across from Malcolm and Tally completed the round, happily chatting with Gil. Malcolm couldn’t remember the last time this table had been both full and happy. Because yes, they all seemed happy in their own unique, fleeting way. Perhaps they wouldn’t be tomorrow, or when Christmas Day itself finally rolled around. But for the moment, it was worth basking in.

The first course served was a soup course, which Dani seemed to eat with more joy than Malcolm had ever seen her eat anything. Though, come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he’d actually seen her eat before. 

“You like soup?” Malcolm said to her. Despite her fervor, she didn’t spill a drop. 

“Hey, mind your own bowl,” Dani said. Then she amended, “It’s really good.”

“I mean, it should be,” said Malcolm. “No telling how much the caterer charges. You should ask for seconds, get her money’s worth.”

“You can do that?” Dani asked. 

“I don’t see why not,” said Malcolm. “I used to do it all the time. But that was mostly for cake, not soup.”

“Cake’s good,” she said with a shrug. “Can’t really eat it, though.”

“You can’t eat cake?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t know cake allergies were a thing.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “I’m not really supposed to be eating gluten,” she said, her voice lowering as she got to the last word, as if she was ashamed of it. “Kind of stupid, I know.” 

“Why is that stupid?” 

“I don’t know. Everyone just started going gluten-free, right? All those fancy restaurants out on 15th street, that’s all they’ve got. But I didn’t want to be one of those people.”

“We usually don’t get to choose that kind of thing,” Malcolm said sympathetically. “Though I did know somebody who tried to purposefully make themselves allergic to dairy so that they could kick their ice cream habit.”

“Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

“About as well as you’d think,” Malcolm said, turning back to his plate innocently. For all his talk about eating right, he’d barely touched any of his own food.

“Great,” said Dani. She looked down at her soup bowl. “Yeah, I think I’m going to pass on seconds. You’re bringing down my appetite.”

Malcolm laughed. “Then I’ll get them to put some aside for you. There’s always tons left.” 

“If you’re sure,” said Dani. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure. I’ll take you down to the kitchen and prove it if you want.”

But Dani didn’t get a chance to take him up on his offer. At that moment, the lights in the chandelier above the table went out, along with the lamps on the end tables and the flickering sconces. The only thing that didn’t go out was the fireplace and the two candles on the table.

Somebody screamed, but in the shock nobody could figure out who. “It’s fine,” said Jessica as she stood up from her chair. “Nothing to worry about. Old house, old wiring, happens every time there’s a heavy snow.” She got up from her seat at the table and put down her napkin. “I’ll just check with Leonard.” 

“You have not got Leonard on wiring,” said Ainsley disbelievingly. 

“Leonard is good at a great many things,” Jessica insisted. “If you just learn to look past his oddities.” 

She disappeared from the room, and in her absence a strange awkward tension descended upon the table. That is, until Gil sighed rather dramatically and sat back in his chair. “So, is everyone enjoying their kidnapping?” he asked. 

“It’s been great,” Edrisa said genuinely. “I’ve never had food like this in my life. Well, that’s not true. But I haven’t had it on Christmas before.”

“It’s not Christmas,” put in JT. 

“It’s basically Christmas,” Edrisa said. “I mean, this is way more of a Christmas than I’m going to get on the actual day, so I’m calling this Christmas.”

“Really? Are you alone for Christmas?” Malcolm asked. 

“I’m Jewish,” Edrisa said. 

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Jessca said, her appearance interrupting Malcolm’s attempt at a reply. “Looks like it’s not our problem, it’s something with the power lines. I’ve called the mayor’s office about a thousand times, begging them to do something about the termites, but it looks like they’ve drug their feet on it again.”

“That’s alright,” said Gil, getting up from his seat and joining her near the fire. “We’ll just pretend it’s the olden days.”

“How olden?” Edrisa asked. “I’d like an approximate year if we’re going to make this authentic.”

“I just mean that we need to stay calm,” said Gil. “Do you have any more candles, Jessica?”

“Oh, yes. Somewhere...” Jessica said. “I just need a light.”

“I got flashlights in the car,” JT said helpfully. 

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” said Jessica. She picked up her phone from an end table and turned on the flashlight to search through the dining hutch drawers. “Not sure where the maids keep them these days.” JT sat back in his chair as Tally patted his arm, knowing that her husband wasn’t really aware that phones on flashlights existed and having made peace with that fact. Gil wandered over to the window, pushing back the curtain to check on the snowfall. 

“Here they are,” said Jessica in a sing-song voice, pulling out several candles from the lowest drawer. “Who put them in there? Probably someone I already fired, pity.” 

“Great,” said Gil. “But I think you need to come look at this.”

“What?” She moved over to the window, the others following her like stray ducklings. 

During dinner and drinks, the snow had changed from a light dusting to a heavy fall. It had stuck to everything in a glistening, flawless sheet, completely covering the streets and sidewalks. Not to mention that it was still falling without any signs of stopping. 

“Did nobody see a weather report?” Ainsley asked. 

“Did you?” Malcolm asked. “You’re supposed to be the one who knows all the news.” 

“I don’t do weather!” said Ainsley. “I do the hard-hitting stuff.”

“I dunno,” said JT. “This looks pretty hard-hitting to me.”

Jessica took a deep breath, the only way anyone could know that she was stressed by the situation. But after that was accomplished, she turned to everyone again, new iron behind her smile. “Well, nobody’s getting out in that tonight,” she said. “You’re all staying here. After all, there’s certainly room at the inn.”

~~~

Neither Malcolm nor Ainsley had slept in this house in years.

Ainsley seemed to be taking it in her stride -- she even requested her old room back, because there was no point in not having what she was used to. But Malcolm... well, Malcolm had reservations. Perhaps if his father hadn’t chloroformed him in his bed, he’d have more pleasant memories of the place. As it was, he elected to simply forego the room altogether.

The biggest problem, of course, was that nobody had any of their usual nighttime accoutrement. The men didn’t have much of a problem, voting to sleep more or less in their clothes. But for the girls, Jessica took them aside into her own private sanctuary. 

“Alright, you may borrow anything that fits,” Jessica said. “You’re all...roughly the same size, it seems. Not quite as tall as me, of course, but that’s no matter.”

“Yes, Mom, you’re a regular Princess Diana bringing height into the royal family,” said Ainsley with mixed fondness and snark.

“One more comment out of you, young lady, and I’m relegating you to the vintage flannels.”

“You wouldn’t,” gasped Ainsley. 

“Try me,” said Jessica with fire in her eyes. 

“Flannels are good,” Dani said, taking in the tasteful elegance of the room. Why hadn’t she decorated her apartment more like this, she wondered? Oh yeah, cop’s salary. 

“Not these,” said Ainsley, shaking her head as Jessica began going through her drawers and putting options down on the bed. “These are like, from the 80s. They’re more pills than flannel at this point. I don’t even know why you still have them, Mom.”

“Merely memories,” said Jessica. “But don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you touch them, anyway. You’ll spill jam on them like you did when you were three.” 

“I never spilled anything!” 

“You did on January 3rd, 1996,” said Jessica solemnly. “What a momentous day. Ainsley Whitly finally made a mistake. But superhumanly, she has made very few since then.” She tweaked Ainsley’s cheek and then turned back to the matter at hand. “Right. Well, I think Edrisa would look splendid in these.” She handed Edrisa a pair of silk pajamas in bright pink.

“I thought you said pink wasn’t for Christmas,” Edrisa said, feeling the silk with bubbly delight. 

“I make an exception for pajamas,” Jessica said. “And what about you, Dani? Anything you like?”

Dani watched Ainsley pull out a slinky nightgown and hold it up to herself. “Actually, I’m cool with my own clothes,” she said. “Really, I sleep in them all the time.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Jessica. “But when you stay in the Whitly house, you get something special, even if it’s just for one night.” She finally pulled out a pair that looked like menswear, with the button up shirt and collar, but in a beautiful emerald green color with silver piping. “You seem to like green. See if these suit.”

“Wow. Thanks,” said Dani, finally accepting that she wasn’t going to get out of this without taking something. She could tell by the feel of the fabric that they probably cost more than she made last week, but sure. Fine. She’d just have to guard them with her life.

“You’re very welcome. Now, put those in your rooms and meet the rest of us downstairs. We need dessert and carols immediately to keep the spirits up.” 

~~~

By the time Ainsley had turned down her bed, refreshed her red lipstick, and returned to the living room, her mother was already warming up on the piano. Ainsley remembered the first time she’d played it. It was only a baby grand, but when she was 4 years old, it had seemed like a monolith. She’d sat on Jessica’s lap as she poked at the keys, upset that it didn’t sound anything like what her mother was able to play. She would have started music lessons soon after that, but of course, everything changed. Instead, she learned how to play at boarding school, competing with the other girls for top spot in the class. She was glad that had been her musical education, rather than quiet lessons at home -- if that had been the case, she never would have discovered how much better she could be than the others.

She took her place beside Jessica on the piano stool. Gil was leaning on the side of the piano with his drink in one hand, looking at Jessica fondly. It took this long for Ainsley to notice, but Gil Arroyo clearly had eyes for her mother. Ainsley liked Gil well enough -- from what she’d heard, he’d practically saved Malcolm’s life -- but she wasn’t sure if he was quite good enough for the Jessica Milton Whitly. No time to think about that yet, though, because Jessica soon launched the two of them into a spirited mother-daughter duet of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”. 

Gil, Malcolm, and Tally joined in without reservation, but there were still some hold outs. “Oh, come on!” said Jessica as they rounded the second verse. “Where’s the holiday cheer? Do I need to refill that glass again, JT?” 

JT shook his head, finally joining in near the end of the song and participating with slightly more vigor in the next one. Edrisa didn’t always know the words, but Malcolm had found an old songbook and helped her along so she wouldn’t be left behind. Not only that, but Jessica even managed to sprinkle in several Hannaukah songs, which nobody else knew, but that she belted in her strong low alto as if she had been singing them all her life. Ainsley had a pleasant mezzo-soprano voice, but even she could not hope to match Jessica’s power in this area. 

“Bravo,” said Gil as they finished their third song. “You know, we should really make a CD. Sell it down at the precinct. What does everyone say?” 

“Great idea,” said Dani, leaning on the opposite side of the piano with her hands balled up in the ends of her sweater sleeves, having removed her leather jacket at last. “We could finally fund that new coffee machine.”

“Come on, we could fund more than a coffee machine,” Gil said with mock offense. 

“Ooh, you’re right,” said Malcolm. “We also need a whiteboard that doesn’t leave streaks when you erase it.” 

“Mm, I dunno,” said Dani, scrunching up her face. “That could be a little expensive. But maybe we could patch up that crack in the filing office so the mice don’t get in.”

“You don’t like the mice?” Malcolm asked. “I’m shocked. I saw you talking to one the other day.” 

“Saying ‘get out before I throw you off the roof’ doesn’t really count as talking,” Dani retorted. 

“I would like to hear less about mice and more about making the yuletide gay,” said Jessica decisively, striking up the appropriate tune. “We’ll see about the CDs after you and you,” and here she pointed to Gil and JT, “Can sort out the difference between bass and baritone.” 

They sang for at least another half hour before they were laughing more than singing and decided it was time to move on to something else. Without electricity, they dug out the board games that Jessica kept around, claiming that even rich aristocrats liked to play Pictionary during an especially dull party. Some of the games Malcolm recognized from his childhood, and one even had his name written on the box in fading Sharpie. He didn’t remember writing it, but it was certainly his 7-year-old hand. 

“You have any cards?” Dani asked. “I really can’t draw.”

“Nonsense,” said Jessica. “I’m sure you draw as well as anybody else here. Well, except me, but I’ve taken drawing classes, so I would hardly expect the rest of you to be at my level.” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna second the cards,” JT said. 

“Oh, fine,” said Jessica with a huff. “There are two decks in that drawer.” 

Once everyone had split off into their separate excursions, snacking on treats and shouting at each other over the finer points of each competition, the hours passed easily. So easily, in fact, that it was a surprise when the first yawn came from Edrisa. 

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, covering her mouth. 

“Don’t tell me you’re already tired,” said Malcolm, glancing at her in mock disbelief. 

“No, not at all,” she said, yawning again. “You’re just afraid that I’m so awake that you’re going to lose, so you’re mind-tripping me into thinking I’m tired.”

“Alright,” said Macolm, putting his hands up in conceit. But of course, the yawning didn’t stop, which made Dani yawn, and soon everyone was beginning to realize that it was after midnight.

“Well, let’s call it a night here, shall we?” said Jessica, picking up two empty glasses from the card table. “But it’s been a smashing success. And assuming the power comes back on before tomorrow, we’ll have a beautiful breakfast.”

Dani cleaned up the cards strewn everywhere before helping Jessica put the remaining glasses in the cart for the maid to clean up. She was used to just doing the washing up herself, but obviously, that wasn’t how it was done in the Whitly household. Jessica waved her off, telling her to go to bed before she fell over. So she returned to her assigned room, which looked like it hadn’t been slept in before. The bed was at least queen-sized, with a canopy that nearly touched the ceiling. The overall decor looked like one of those rooms you’d see in a movie about French aristocrats who had more money than they knew what to do with. 

After making double-certain that her door was closed and locked, Dani changed into her borrowed pajamas. The material was both cool and warm against her skin and she decided that she could happily die in them if it came down to that. She was about to get into bed when there was a sharp rap against the door. Confused, she walked what felt like an absurdly long expanse of rug to answer the summons. Malcolm was on the other side.

“Is that what you wear to sleep in?” Dani asked, gesturing to his full suit. “No wonder you have nightmares.”

Malcolm laughed. “No, not quite. But I’m here to give you the full Whitly turn-down experience.”

“Do I...want to know what that is?” Dani asked. 

“Probably not, but I’m afraid it’s required,” he said with great solemnity. “You’re not allowed to stay overnight at the Whitly home without it.”

“Oh...kay,” said Dani. She let him into the room, arms crossed to ward her against all funny business. 

“First I come over and turn down the sheets for you,” said Malcolm. “You know, like a maid. Just think of me as your personal maid.”

“Yeah, there’s no way this could get weird,” Dani said. 

“Of course not. Now you get into bed, as you would if I was simply not here at all.”

“If you weren’t here, I’d already be asleep,” she said. But she did as he said, arms still crossed.

“Get comfy,” said Malcolm. “And now, the tuck-in part of the turn down.” 

“Hey, what--”

But it was already too late. Malcolm was fully tucking her in, as tightly as bedsheets would allow. So tight she couldn’t really even move her arms, she could only glare at him from underneath the covers like a feral kitten being conditioned to like humans. 

“There!” said Malcolm. “All finished. Now, ordinarily, the second part of the turn-down service is reading the recipient a bedtime story, but I have a feeling that if I tried that, I would be slaughtered.” 

“So your brain is still working,” said Dani, wondering if sheets could crush a person’s larynx. 

“Sometimes, yeah,” said Malcolm. He clapped his hands together. “Okay, then. Sweet dreams. Not that those are in large supply in the Whitly house, but hey, you never know. Could be a Christmas miracle.”

“Hey,” said Dani as Malcolm made to go out the door. He turned back around. “You better do this to JT too, or I’m calling HR on you.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Malcolm. “JT and Tally are next. If you don’t see me in the morning, you’ll know he shot me before I could get the sheets tight enough.”

~~~

Dani usually had the ability to sleep anywhere, but for some reason, it wasn’t coming easily tonight. Once she’d extricated herself from Malcolm’s heinous turn-down (and JT had stopped shouting from down the hall), she’d gotten an hour or so. But once the laughter and the card games and the dessert were all gone, she remembered that the power was still out and her car was snowed in. Not to mention that she didn’t have a spare charger for her phone, so once it was out, it was out. There were certainly worse places to be snowed in. This was ... actually, this was nice. Really nice. So why couldn’t she make herself sleep? 

There was a TV in the room -- the only true detraction from the extremely old-fashioned furnishings -- but of course, that wasn’t going to work either. As far as she could tell there weren’t any books, but even if there were, she only had her phone flashlight to read by, defeating the purpose of saving her battery. 

Finally, she got out of bed, socks the only things protecting her feet from the cold floor once she’d gotten past the massive expanse of rug again and back out into the hallway. Her eyes were already adjusted to the dark so the hallway wasn’t so bad, but she took her phone just in case. She wasn’t really sure where she wanted to go from here, and although she was pretty curious about the rest of the house, she didn’t feel right exploring any area that she hadn’t specifically been welcomed into. Especially a house like this, where any corner could hide some bloody secret that even the family didn’t quite know about. 

With the house eerily quiet, without even the hum of electronic devices or lights, her imagination made a serial killer out of every shadow. She unwittingly put herself in the shoes of Martin Whitly’s victims, a young woman exploring late at night at the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, she’d been that before, in places much more immediately dangerous than anything Martin Whitly could have dreamt of. The thought of the man rotting away in his cell put her at ease, made her laugh even. His ex-wife had certainly removed any trace of him from this place.

The allure of the Christmas tree brought her back to the dining room, though it was less cozy now that the fire had been put out. The tree was tucked up in a corner with no good place to sit, so instead she just sat on the floor in front of it as the snow continued to fall outside. She remembered sitting in front of her grandmother’s Christmas tree years ago, holding a mug of earl gray tea in her small hands. Things had certainly changed since then. For example, she never would have imagined she’d eventually be wearing her colleague’s mother’s pajamas and roaming about her house two days -- well, no, one day -- before Christmas. 

This late at night, her hearing only got better, so she was keenly aware of a set of footsteps that made their way to the living room and suddenly stopped at the side entrance. She resisted the urge to spring up off the floor and instead just looked over her shoulder. It was Malcolm, leaning on the doorframe and watching her. “And I thought I was the only insomniac around here,” he said. 

“Not tonight,” said Dani. “I guess you don’t have your handcuffs with you, huh?” 

“Wouldn’t you know, I forgot them as I was being rushed out the door by my mother’s urgent phone call,” he said, shaking his head. He walked over to join her on the floor by the tree, sitting cross-legged with his head in one hand. The one he’d broken when he’d been tied up in the basement, an event which still had a habit of creeping into her consciousness.

“The tree’s really great,” Dani said, looking up at it. “Even when the lights are off.”

“That’s the Jessica Whitly touch,” Malcolm said. 

“She did it herself?” Dani asked. “I thought she’d have people to do it. Like a professional Christmas decorator or whatever.”

“There are other trees in the house that she hired out,” said Malcolm. “But she always does the main one herself. Or with Ainsley, if she can wrangle her into coming.” 

“She sure did that tonight,” said Dani with a wry half-smile.

Malcolm chuckled. “Yeah, well. It’s gotten easier, I guess. We hardly used to see her at all, but things have...changed. A lot. And in a pretty short amount of time, now that I think about it.”

“I guess I was just thinking about that,” said Dani. “Like, a year ago, I didn’t even know who you were. Now I’m sitting in your childhood trauma house and tomorrow we’re going to eat eggs in our pajamas.”

“And pancakes,” said Malcolm. “Wait, you won’t be. Sorry.” 

“See? This is why I don’t tell anyone my secrets,” she said.

“Understandable,” he said. He paused to look up at the tree again. “But seriously, I’m glad we met. And it’s good to know that my mother has like, five people that would rush to her side at a moment’s notice if something went wrong.”

“Well actually,” said Dani. “She said it was you who needed help.” 

“You’re kidding,” he said incredulously. 

“Nope.”

“What did she say I was doing? Threatening to jump off the balcony? About to skewer myself with a hot poker from the fireplace?” 

“No specifics,” said Dani with a shrug. “Just that you...needed help.”

“And you came?” 

“Yeah. I mean, that’s what friends do.” She paused, smiled. “And it’s not like I was busy or anything. Just reading this really stupid book that Darren got me for Christmas.”

“Oh, that guy from the main office who’s in love with you?”

She snorted. “Yeah, that one. I should have brought it with me -- it would have gone great with the games. We could have taken turns reading parts out loud and guessed at how high the writer was.”

“So, a game we’d both be really good at,” Malcolm said. 

Dani rolled her eyes. “Yep. Hey, maybe Edrisa too. You never know. Once you’ve sniffed enough formaldehyde it’s gotta have some effect on you.”

The conversation between them continued on, the lateness of the hour and the oddness of the situation -- comfort, for them, was rather alien -- loosening their tongues more than usual. Slowly, they began to gather pillows and a throw blanket from the couch in the other room, Dani complaining about needing a place to lean her elbow and then Malcolm complaining about being cold. The snow stopped falling somewhere around 3 AM, but neither of them was awake to see it. 

~~~

Malcolm’s doze was just beginning to turn into a dream when there was a sound somewhere in the room, loud enough to startle him awake. He blinked once, twice, rubbing his tired eyes, his ears awake before his brain. It was a kind of muted clanging, like somebody climbing down a ladder. Dani was asleep nearby, her head on the throw pillow she’d tossed on the floor. He shook her shoulder.

“What?” she grumbled. 

“Shh,” Malcolm whispered. “You hear that?” 

Dani sat up, her curls mussed from the pillow, and immediately eyed the fireplace. “Yeah,” she whispered back. Her hand automatically went to her waist where her holster would be, but of course, there was nothing there. “Crap,” she hissed. “I didn’t take my gun.”

“Neither did I,” he said. The noises continued until, like something being birthed, a man appeared in the mouth of the fireplace. But he wasn’t wearing red and he certainly did not have a bag of presents with him -- no, this man looked like he was set on doing a lot more damage than that. His black attire and ski mask prevented either of them from getting a good look at him, but he was lithe enough to be able to climb up and down a modestly sized chimney. 

As he turned around, he caught sight of Malcolm. They stared at each other for a split second before the man pulled a gun out of his jacket and trained it from Malcolm to Dani with a shaky hand. Dani put her hands up, cursing the size of the house. More than likely, nobody would have heard anything upstairs. 

“What do you want?” Malcolm asked steadily, his voice carrying through the silent room. 

“Shut up,” hissed the man, glancing over the side door. “I know that Jessica Whitly lives here.”

“Yes,” Malcolm said. “...But she’s not home.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true! You think I’d be in here with my date if she was?” He glanced over at Dani, who hoped that her momentary shock at the statement could be passed off as fear. She cleared her throat and nodded up at the man, confirming that yes, she was indeed Malcolm Whitly’s date for the evening, and there was nothing strange about that whatsoever. 

“Fine,” said the man, still quiet. He waved his gun vaguely around the room. “Whatever’s valuable in here, get it. Put it in the bag. I’ll have this trained on your date, so don’t make any funny moves.”

Dani sat still by the tree, her hands remaining totally useless in their elevated position. Malcolm began by going over to the dining table and procuring the real silver candlesticks. But instead of putting them gently into the bag, he dropped them in from the top of the sack, letting them clang together in the bottom. Jessica would hardly be appreciative of her silver getting dented, but there were worse things in this life. He also threw in the tablecloth for good measure. 

“That’s not worth anything,” said the robber. “I have limited room here.”

“I assure you, it is,” said Malcolm. “Only the finest linen imported from France. You think Jessica Whitly would serve her Christmas dinner on anything else?” He went over to the portraits on the wall. “Now, if you could spare the space for one of these, that would really be something for the collection. I know you can’t exactly carry it back up the chimney, but you could always come back for them once the snow clears --” 

“Stop stalling,” said the man through gritted teeth. “What’s in those drawers?” He gestured to the bureau.

“Let’s just check,” said Malcolm. But as he was walking over to the bureau, he tripped on the rug. And as he tripped on the rug, he grabbed at one of the dining chairs, which fell with him into a great crash on the floor. It was hard to say who cringed more, Dani or the robber.

“Come on, Bright,” said Dani, as if exasperated by Malcolm’s entire being. “Why did I even agree to come here tonight? I could be at home watching Jeopardy and it would have sucked less.”

Malcolm looked up from his spot on the hardwood. “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for going out with a Whitly,” he said. He pushed up on his hands and knees and finally made his way over to the bureau, keenly aware of the rising tension in the room and wondering when the man with the gun would tire of these games. 

Just as his hand touched the handle of the bureau, the side door banged open. Malcolm whipped his head around to see Gil standing in the doorway with his gun trained on the man. 

“NYPD. Hold it right there,” thundered Gil. Dani used the sudden distraction to leap forward, using her leverage from the floor to run into the robber’s legs and knock him clear to the ground. He lost his grip on the gun and it skidded across the floor as he grappled with Dani. Malcolm picked up the gun just as the man elbowed Dani firmly in the face and ran through the main doors to the front foyer. Dani leapt up and chased him outside, skidding across the floor in her socks. 

He managed to get to the heavy front door and threw it open, launching himself into the snow outside. Without hesitation Dani followed him, catching onto the back of his coat and forcing him down. In the heat of the moment she barely noticed the cold, dealing him one blow in return for what he’d given her and several more for good measure. Malcolm and Gil appeared, shouting at her to be careful in the ice but clearly too late for that. They rushed over to her and she looked up from where she had the man in a messy but firm choke hold. 

“Would somebody cuff this guy?” she demanded. Gil obliged her and she finally let the man loose. Her heavy breath floated up into the dark night, the glow of the streetlights reflecting across the snow. Wait, the streetlights? 

“Looks like the power’s back on,” said Malcolm, crossing his arms over his chest to retain some heat. Of course, he was still holding the loaded gun in one hand, gun safety being his passion and all.

“Not a moment too soon,” said Gil, hefting the man up and removing the ski mask to reveal a scruffy 30-something that matched the description of the robber they’d been looking for for the past month. 

“What’s going on out here?” Jessica asked, suddenly appearing at the top of the stairs. 

“We were robbed,” Malcolm called back up to his mother. “Well, almost. Dani and I took care of it.” 

“Hey, I deserve a little credit for my timing,” Gil said. “But now we’ve got to put this guy somewhere until the roads are clear enough to drive.”

“Well, you’re not putting him in the house,” Jessica said, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her shoulders. 

“Don’t think we have a choice,” said Malcolm. “Would be pretty cruel and unusual if we left him out here to freeze.” 

Jessica sighed. “Fine. You can put him down in the basement. But the minute that snow clears, he’s gone.” 

The bedraggled foursome carefully made their way back up the slippery stairs and into the house. Gil and Malcolm took the robber down to the basement, but Dani got stopped at the door. 

“You are absolutely covered in snow,” exclaimed Jessica, brushing it out of Dani’s curls. “Not to mention all the blood!”

“It’s nothing,” said Dani, holding her sore nose. “He just elbowed me in the face, is all.” She looked down at her pajamas with the bloody streak down the front and froze. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Mrs. Whitly.”

“Don’t worry a bit,” said Jessica, taking Dani by the shoulders and steering her to the bathroom to get cleaned up. “You have bloodied them in the line of duty.”

“Yeah, but now they’re ruined.” 

“That’s the wonderful thing about pima cotton, my dear,” said Jessica. “No matter what you do to it, it all comes out in the wash.” 

~~~

Around noon, the snow had been cleared enough for Gil to get the unwelcome guest down to the station. The rest of the party also packed up to leave, but not until the events of the previous night had been thoroughly discussed and dissected over the breakfast table. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t hear anything,” said Ainsley, poking savagely at her scrambled eggs. “Can you imagine the story? Catching a robber on Christmas Eve in my own mother’s house!” 

“Yeah, you could have filmed Dani’s bloody nose and everything,” said Malcolm dryly. “That would have made great TV.”

“Yes, yes it would,” said Ainsley, pointing her fork at him. 

“Well, I’m glad we slept through it,” said JT, starting in on his second round of bacon. “We needed a vacation. Also, this is delicious.” 

“Thank you,” said Jessica with a tired smile. “I’m just relieved the power came back, otherwise it would have been quite the sad little meal.”

Everyone nodded, and a comfortable pause descended over the table. But it didn’t take long for Ainsley to break it again. 

“You know, it’s a great story,” she started. “But there’s just one piece that you left out, Malcolm. What were you and Dani doing down here at three in the morning, anyway?”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep,” said Dani hurriedly. “Just...the creepy house noises. And the cold.”

“Yes,” agreed Malcolm. “And I never sleep, so.”

“So we couldn’t sleep. At the same time,” Dani added. “And there’s only so many places to go when you can’t sleep.”

“Interesting,” said Ainsley, looking between the two of them with her hands folded under her chin. “Very interesting.”

“They were just talking,” said Edrisa, as if it was she who was on trial. “It’s a free country, people are allowed to talk in their own homes. Now, if we were in North Korea, you may have a case there.”

“Someday I’ll cover North Korea, too,” said Ainsley. “But for the moment, there’s clearly plenty of interesting stories right here at home.” She smiled pointedly at her brother. 

“Edrisa, we should really get going,” said Dani, pushing her chair away from the table. “Assuming you still want me to give you a ride?”

“Oh, yes,” said Edrisa. “Let the bonding continue, am I right?”

“You’re so right,” said Dani dryly, putting her hands in her pockets. Then she took one out and offered it to Jessica. “Thank you, Mrs. Whitly,” she said. “It was... great. Really great.”

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” said Jessica. She got up from the table, and instead of shaking Dani’s hand she gave her a friendly hug. “Don’t be a stranger, dear.” She turned to the rest of the table. “And that goes for the rest of you, too. I don’t want to have to make up some other nonsensical excuse to get you all here under my roof again.”

“Hey, as long as you’ve got meals like this, I’ll come back any time you want,” JT said. Tally shook her head at him, but everyone else just laughed.

Dani, Edrisa, JT, and Tally drove off after the breakfast was finished. But Jessica pulled her wayward children back from the fray at the last moment.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said. “It’s Christmas Eve. You two are staying here.”

“But Mom, I left my laptop at my place,” said Ainsley. “There’s footage I have to look at. Editing I have to do.”

“Not on Christmas Eve,” said Jessica. “We’ve averted yet another crisis and I want to keep that streak going, so you two just sit tight.” 

Malcolm and Ainsley looked at each other, then at Ainsley’s car outside. Both of them kept waiting for the other to say something, but it seemed that neither of them would. If they left now, they would not only break their mother’s heart, but they would also go back to freezing and empty apartments that held nothing except the lives they’d tried to carve out for themselves, sometimes successfully and sometimes quite badly. And another snowstorm might hit at any time, keeping them there until after Christmas was over. 

Ainsley sighed. “Okay, fine,” she said. “As long as Malcolm doesn’t sing those dumb songs he always sings on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, I’m bringing those out,” said Malcolm. “You can’t stop me.”

Jessica pressed her hand up to her forehead. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she said. “You two sort it out; I’m going to wrap some last minute presents.” She went upstairs, leaving her children to quarrel. But once she’d gotten to her room, she found herself smiling.

In a way, this promised to be one of the most normal Christmases they’d had in years.


End file.
